Tiny Assassins
by TheAllPowerfulOz
Summary: Live Journal Kink Meme Fill #6 Yaoi! Desmond and Shaun. Desmond is secretly an engineering prodigy.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1; However**

Shaun Hastings was a patient man. He was also a man who was intolerant of other people's stupidity. Of which, there was a great lot in his opinion. None more potent in this department than one Desmond Miles.

The first time he'd laid eyes on the young man, he'd given him the benefit of the doubt. Yes, he'd been a bit terse, but he'd been very stressed and hadn't had a good night's sleep, so who could blame him.

But then Desmond had said IT.

"What's all this stuff?"

STUFF.

**STUFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF!**

The sum of the last ten years of Shaun's life labeled 'STUFF'.

And the chance he'd given the young man to prove to him not all Americans were lazy, stupid drones, melted away like a snowflake in hell.

Desmond was an ignorant, self-centered, lazy… Adonis.

Yes… Desmond looked terrific. LOOKED… But Shaun had met too many men with pleasant exteriors who turned out to be bricks of idiocy, or insolent meatheads with more toes than brain cells.

So, he slapped a nice big red 'STUPID' tag on Desmond's forehead, and contented himself with just staring at the young man. Imagining things. Contented himself with Desmond's nonchalance and that casual immodesty almost all men share together.

He tried to ignore the scratching, the belching, the farting. The being in the shower trying to have a few moments peace when Desmond shoved the door open with a pained whine; "Shaun, man, I've gotta piss so fuckin' bad! I can't hold it any more!"

Shaun endured all of this in his usual way. Throwing jibes and witty insults hoping to disguise the want and lust his body burned with every time he was near the other young man.

Because Desmond was an idiot. Enough common sense to fill a thimble and that was about it!

God had a way of evening out these things… Good looking people were never smart, unless they were women. Their two resident females were proof of that, though Shaun didn't think Rebecca qualified as 'female' he thought perhaps 'humanoid being of unknown origin' suited her better. Men though. Shaun had yet to find a man who was both good looking, and brilliant… At least he had yet to find one who hadn't been dead for five-hundred years or more that is.

So, Shaun Hastings had resigned himself to lusting after an idiot he wouldn't lower his high standards of brains and beauty for and actually try to form a relationship with—That was until Tuesday morning.

Because everything changed on Tuesday morning.

Shaun was sitting down at the kitchen table with two rounds of toast, lightly spread with jam, and a cup of orange juice, because winter was approaching and God knew the last thing he needed was to catch a cold. So he'd been upping his vitamin C intake significantly for the past two weeks.

Rebecca was still in bed, her usual set time for reanimation not for another thirty minutes. Desmond was puttering around in the living room, watching something mindless and seizure inducingly colorful on TV while he munched noisily on a bowl of Lucky Charms.

And suddenly there was a scream.

A small scream that at first sounded like it had come from outside, but it was distinctly Lucy's voice.

Shaun's head perked up and he twisted himself around to stare backward down the hall at the bathroom.

The screaming continued for a half a breath more, and suddenly the bathroom door burst open and there was a pale streak, roughly toddler sized, rushing out, splattering water and trailing steam.

Shaun was on his feet and chasing it, eyes wide, horrified.

What in God's name was a CHILD doing in their hideout!

The child leapt, all wet thin legs, long dripping blonde hair, and too large towel, sailed through the air and landed square on Desmond's chest, tackling him backward off the couch, where he'd turned at the shrieking sound and the thud of Shaun's footsteps, and pinned him flat on his back in the floor like a bug on a windshield.

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO ME!" The child screamed in Lucy's voice.

And then Shaun realized… It WAS Lucy.

Desmond's eyes were wide. His face terribly pale, and he had his hands up. His mouth flapped soundlessly for a few seconds and then he was spluttering out in shock; "W-w-w-what are you talking about!"

The Tiny Lucy slugged him in the mouth.

Her fist wasn't very large, roughly the size of two of Shaun's fingers curled into his palm. But the sound they made was solid enough and he smirked inwardly, because this was just outright insane, and obviously meant he was dreaming.

Rebecca stumbled into the hall carrying a rather large pistol, one eye closed, lips slack.

Frighteningly enough, she looked like she was still asleep as she slumped against the wall and aimed the gun in front of her.

Shaun made sure he wasn't standing near her.

"Your 'SQUIRT GUN'?" Lucy grabbed him by the front of his shirt and shook him.

The guilt in Desmond's eyes multiplied exponentially then, making his pupils dilate and his bloody bottom lip curl between his teeth.

"Oh… Yeah—Uh… About that." Desmond smiled sheepishly and slowly sat up when Lucy climbed off of him and stood there shivering, wrapped in a hand towel. He rubbed his neck nervously and glanced around then mumbled something under his breath.

Lucy's little face turned blood red. A rather unflattering color in Shaun's opinion. "A WHAT?"

Desmond flinched and climbed slowly to his feet, padding off past Rebecca, who had begun snoring softly where she was still standing against the wall, one eye open and flicking left and right angrily.

Shaun took a moment to ease his hand over the gun, flick on the safety, and eject the clip so she didn't end up killing one of them before she unthawed. Instinct could be a deadly thing he'd discovered.

Desmond reappeared a few seconds later carrying a yellow, black and lime green squirt gun Shaun had seen it sitting on the edge of the sink when he'd woken up that morning and gone to brush his teeth and shave.

The younger man had insisted one day, about a month before, when Lucy had been forced to allow him and Shaun to go on a shopping trip since Rebecca was sick, that he and Shaun had to stop at a Flea Market. Saying that he needed new shoes and jeans and it would be cheaper than buying them from the store.

Desmond had ended up buying a cheap telescope that was made primarily of plastic and badly aligned prisms, a laser pointer, a bag of clear glass marbles, a pack of lithium batteries, a small spool of copper wire and a squirt gun.

Shaun had berated him the entire way home, then promptly gone and told Lucy exactly what the idiot had spent his money on.

Nobody had seen the telescope, laser pointer, marbles, wire, or batteries again after they'd disappeared into the small storage closet Rebecca stored a few old/unusable Animus parts in and Desmond had claimed (like a freaking conquistador) as his bedroom.

Shaun seemed to be the only one who'd agreed with him on that particular subject, and he only did that because staying up late working and trying to ignore the fact Desmond had been feigning sleep and 'quietly' trying to enjoy his right hand not twelve feet away was near impossible.

Especially when sometimes all Shaun wanted was to BE Desmond's right hand.

"This has to be the craziest dream I've ever had…" Shaun scrubbed his face, glancing between the Tiny Lucy, Rebecca and Desmond's squirt gun. "Though usually I'd insist on at least two of you being naked and properly lubricated."

And everything stopped.

Lucy turned her little head and glared up at Shaun like a rabid kitten, all too big eyes and shiny little teeth… And then she lunged at him.

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	2. Chapter 2

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**Chapter 2; Insanity Ensues **

Shaun was not a zealot for pain. In fact, the only kind of pain he did enjoy was—Well it definitely wasn't being tackled to the floor by a pint-sized-assassin in a towel and threatened with bodily harm and a nonconsensual sex change.

Lucy, needless to say, was not amused by his comment, nor her predicament.

And Shaun quickly discovered this was, in fact, NOT a dream.

So, that's how Shaun found himself, on Tuesday morning, sitting in a kitchen chair with an icepack on the back of his head a hand on his mouth, staring wide eyed at a barely two-foot-tall Lucy wearing a hand towel.

Desmond held the 'squirt gun' in his hands, turning it this way and that gingerly, as if it were delicate and he worried Lucy had broken it when she'd… Done whatever she'd done to wind up shrunk.

"I tried to open it to empty out what I thought was water and the next thing I know there's a flash of red light and I'm two feet tall!" She glared up at them all.

And Rebecca, who had woken up suddenly and without word or comment, merely smiled at Lucy with a dreamy look on her face. "You're so tiny! I just want to put you in a fluffy dress and take you shopping!"

Lucy covered her eyes with her hand and tapped her foot impatiently. "Desmond, just tell me what that is, how the HELL this happened, and how I undo it!"

Desmond swallowed and at first acted as if he couldn't hear her. Then he cleared his throat and spoke in a slow, calm voice. "It's –uh—It's a shrinking gun… I-I made one when I was a kid, but I only succeeded in shrinking one of my dad's guard dogs and two trucks… I was black and blue for a month."

Shaun was blinking. "You made one when you were a kid?"

Desmond nodded. "It's pretty simple really—"

"Simple? Desmond, good lord, Einstein couldn't even—THIS shouldn't exist! It's something that should be in cartoons, or-or-or COMIC BOOKS!"

Desmond looked up and quirked his mouth to the side disbelievingly. "Its just chemicals and light."

Shaun threw up his hands, his icepack splatting to the floor. "'Chemicals and light' he says… Dear God, we could be talking about a fog machine for how he's acting!"

Rebecca made pinching motions at Lucy's cheeks and Lucy slapped her hands away and kicked Desmond in the shin to get his attention. "How did you do it? And how do you UNDO it!"

Desmond gave himself a shake and turned the 'squirt gun' over in his hands, there was a little black switch, like something off a Happy Meal Toy, or an 'on off' switch hidden on the battery pack of a child's talking doll, Desmond scraped his thumb nail across it and pointed it at Lucy. "Uh… I'd close your eyes if I were you, guys."

"Why?"

"Cause you're wearing a hand towel, and I don't want to get yelled at for unshrinking you then staring at your boobs when they pop out over it."

Lucy kicked him again.

There was a noise, like a hiss of steam, and a creaking sound like leather boots, the smell of ozone, and something acidic filled the air and Lucy coughed a few times, then her feet thudded against the floor as she fled to the bathroom.

When Shaun opened his eyes, he caught sight of a pale feminine posterior as it disappeared behind a slammed bathroom door.

Rebecca chuckled, obviously having not closed her eyes. "That was freaky." She had her nose wrinkled up, hand waving before her face. "So, care to tell us how you defied modern science?"

Desmond scraped a hand through his hair and sat the 'squirt gun' on the table then collapsed back into a chair, legs spread, looking tired and dogged.

"Well, basically the chemicals react with the laser light through the prisms, cause the copper to decay, and the molecular breakdown creates the same radiation that causes a star to collapse in on itself and create a black hole."

Shaun continued to stare at him stupidly.

Rebecca nodded, as if she knew what he was talking about. Maybe she did. Maybe whatever planet she originally came from had already discovered such things and they were child's toys… Like goddamned squirt guns or something.

"It's released like a vapor through the nozzle here and basically causes your molecules to compact at a rapid rate… But it only creates a small amount of radiation so it only causes a small compaction."

"How do you undo it then?"

"Reverse the polarity of the chemical. It makes the copper decay differently and… And stuff. Same thing that causes a star to go supernova."

Stuff again… Shaun cringed.

"But on a small scale." Rebecca propped her chin on her hand.

"Right."

"Where did you get the chemical and what is it?"

Desmond smirked; "Like I'd tell you."

Rebecca grinned, and it was a rather unpleasant expression with her eyes narrowed and her teeth showing. Almost like a snarl… But a polite one.

"So the fact I'm missing almost a gallon of coolant, and three quarts of Primary Fluid for the Animus is completely unrelated?"

Desmond just smiled.

Lucy appeared out of the bathroom then. Dressed and back to her normal size, though it looked as if she'd been in the sun, her skin taken on a golden glow like a light, rather flattering tan.

"Oh, side-effect… Uh, the tan will fade like a normal tan, so you don't have to worry about that… But you might get hiccups and a rash." He motioned to his underarms and blushed.

"Thanks for the warning." She still looked positively livid. "Care to explain where you learned such advanced physics that you could leave the Templars in the dust?"

Desmond shrugged and nudged the gun across the tabletop with a rigid index finger, practically pouting. "I was bored."

"Bored."

He nodded.

"You learned physics and engineering, then _defied_ it because you were bored."

Desmond rubbed his neck. "What's with the third degree? I like science, OK?"

"You like science…"

Desmond covered his face with both hands and rocked back in his chair; "I think there's an echo in here." He sighed and dropped the chair back onto four legs, propped his right elbow on the table and started talking, fingers rigid and curled as he made gestures to illustrate his thoughts.

"Back at the Farm, I got in trouble a lot. I wasn't the most athletic kid. In fact I got beaten up on a daily basis. I spent most of my time like, in the library reading shit or taking stuff apart to see how it worked. The first thing I built that didn't blow up in my face was a rubber band robot made from old clocks and an electronic dictionary I found in the garbage. I don't know how many times I burned my fingers with the soldering iron fixing a circuit board for it, but finally I got it right. And I actually made the first one of those-" he motioned to the gun, "-by accident. I was trying to make a laser pistol so I could take out the security cameras without making noise and escape. I thought I had it right, but I guess it was too strong. I fired off a shot at a camera, the light went right through it—through a couple drums of chemicals in the loading bay—And two trucks were reduced to the size of Tonka toys and my dad's favorite pittbull could suddenly fit in a teacup!"

Rebecca snorted.

Shaun stood then and walked quickly from the room, scrubbing his scalp with rigid fingers.

"Oh, come on, Shaun, I thought you wanted to hear this!" Rebecca called over her shoulder.

But Shaun had already shut the door to his room and locked it.

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	3. Chapter 3

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**Chapter 3; Watch It, Work It, Shake It**

Over the next four days Shaun slowly went insane.

Rebecca had Desmond by her side almost constantly, talking in an insane gibberish of mechanical and technical jargon. Using words that brought vague images of strange internal metal workings of the Animus to mind, but other than that they were just pieces of technology.

Yes, Shaun knew computers. He was good at finding things and remembering them, and had spent most of the first half of his life as a hacker and conspiracy nut. He knew how to get past fire walls, how to build them so they became virtually impassable. Knew how to write in ninety-seven different forms of code not yet known to the military or Templars. He'd created his own binary and operating system with which he'd built the Truth from the ground up… But the things Desmond and Rebecca were talking about, were laughing and joking about as if it were as benign and well known as the fucking Wombles! Well, THAT… That STUFF was giving him a headache.

Shaun found himself feeling stupid, and lowly and unworthy… He didn't like this feeling. He'd spent the better part of two months convincing himself that he was smarter, better than Desmond so he could push away the feelings of attraction. So he could say that Desmond was below his standards of an acceptable mate. That Desmond was neither a curvaceous redheaded girl with brown eyes, extensive vocabulary and a house fill of books. Nor was he a tall, dark, and handsome man with a mind that would set fire to Shaun's intellect and a dick that would make women weep for their loss.

No.

Desmond was just a lazy, good-for-nothing, Adonis-bodied young man with no brain. And half wasn't good enough. Shaun wanted the whole package…

But now that he knew Desmond also possessed a terrifying intelligence that put Shaun's own to shame, Shaun couldn't function properly.

He'd spent the entire time they'd known one another being an obstinate prick… And now?

Now Shaun Hastings felt like a fool for the second time in his life.

He was just thankful that this time he was the only one who knew of his mistake, and he wasn't going to be chased by Templars with guns for making it… He was just going to have to sit back and watch the man of his dreams be wooed by an alien in a woman's body.

Yes. Shaun felt like a complete and total idiot.

Lucy though, didn't treat Desmond any differently, and had confiscated the shrinking gun from him, saying that it could come in handy if they suddenly had to move. No more worrying about if they had enough room for everything, they'd just shrink the Animus, and all the computers, pack them in the trunk of the car and go.

It would cut down escape time by more than half.

Shaun had also seen her discreetly 'unshrinking' her breasts in the bathroom, but decided to say nothing and just keep the information for blackmail when he needed an excuse to borrow the car and go 'shopping' again.

He felt decidedly left out, and had been brooding viciously for the past half a week. In that last half a week, he'd also become quite friendly with his right hand, and the contents of a certain little box he kept under his bed, which had migrated to his bedside drawer seemingly of its own accord.

Suddenly being slapped in the face with the fact that Desmond was not an airhead and was truthfully and catastrophically brilliant behind his aloof and laidback attitude, had cursed Shaun with a stiffy that wouldn't fucking die!

Worse yet, it had gotten so bad, that he'd become spiteful. He wanted to make Desmond pay for doing this to him. So he'd complained and badgered and whittled away at Lucy until she'd made Desmond stop sleeping in his storage closet and move back onto the bed in the work room under the pretense that; "You made a shrinking gun while you were in there. I was SHRUNK, and you were playing with potentially hazardous chemicals in a small enclosed, unventilated area! I'm surprised you didn't kill yourself!" Just so he could relish in the fact that he wasn't the only one uncomfortable any longer and pretend to work and listen to Desmond 'relieving' himself during the night.

Desmond whined and complained and sniffled like a little child, but flopped himself across the big bed anyway with an aggravated scoff.

And that's how it happened.

It was dark, silent but for the tapping of Shaun's keyboard and the gentle hum of his computer. Everything was glowing dimly blue and gray from the diffused light of text on double screens…

And Shaun heard that telltale shifting of bedsprings behind him as Desmond turned away from him onto his left side.

Shaun's heart was suddenly in his throat, and his brain had dropped right into his crotch. He could feel the fullness of it pressing against the zipper of his slacks from within.

_'This was a mistake… Oh, God, why did I think this was a good idea!'_ This wasn't relieving his stress by giving him a fresh recording of Desmond's voice in his head, or creating more detailed mental images for him to access later when he was in bed… No. This was like putting a starving cat in a small box with a piece of nicely prepared chicken and telling it that it's not allowed to eat.

Shaun was not a zealot for pain. In fact, the only kind of pain he did enjoy was that full burning stretch of being penetrated and roughly plowed into. That ache, that tightness that hurt so deeply, so completely, it made his soul sing.

Shaun Hastings was a patient man…

_'No,'_ he decided. '_No I'm not.'_

Desmond barely registered the fact that the typing had stopped. He had his hand buried in his pants, the blankets hunched up over his head and shoulders like a cloak, biting into his pillow to remain silent. The last thing he needed was Shaun realizing what he was doing, or calling out in that condescending, knowing voice of his; 'You alright, Desmond? You're breathing awfully fast.'

Desmond focused on breathing slowly, on remaining still. On not making the bed squeak while his fist moved.

It wasn't that he was horny, because when it came down to it, living Ezio's life on a daily basis ensured that Desmond's sex drive was practically non existent. Whenever he looked at a woman or thought of sex all he could think about was those poor courtesans and the fact that in the fifteenth century nobody was aware of all the sexually transmitted diseases floating around. That was why he wasn't too terribly disappointed when those particular memories were skipped. Masturbation had become a way to make himself sleep. A way to exhaust himself to the point that his mind didn't have a choice and all it could do was shut down instead of plaguing him with ceaseless chatter in languages he shouldn't know, or memories of things that hadn't happened to him.

That was true at least until he felt the weight on the bed at his knees, and the hands digging at the blankets covering him.

Desmond's mouth opened wide, a choked cry coming from his throat, too startled to control himself, too focused on keeping quiet to have noticed when Shaun climbed to his feet, or that the other young man was bending over him, breath hot and quick, pupils wide in the dark.

Shaun descended on him like a perverted uncle come to 'tuck you in for the night', all wet lips and hot, moist breath panting out like an asthmatic bull.

He choked and spluttered, jerking his hand out of his pants and pushing through the blankets at Shaun's chest, trying to untangle himself and get away.

Was the Brit crazy! Had he finally flipped his lid and was going to fucking rape him!

"Calm down…" Shaun swallowed thickly, whispering in Desmond's ear. "Christ, Des, calm down."

"Whatdoyouwant?Whatareyoudoing?" Desmond squirmed and twisted under the blankets, eyes wide, terror thick in his veins.

He spoke in quick words, small words, because that was all his brain could supply at the moment. "I want to talk."

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	4. Chapter 4

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**Chapter 4; Drive it Like You Stole it**

Talk? Is that what they were calling it now? Desmond swallowed thickly, but nodded because at the moment he didn't know what else to do without seriously injuring the other man.

Shaun sat up, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, head in his hands, "I've had this image in my head of you since we met… Since you asked me what all that 'STUFF' was…" He spat that word bitterly. "I was convinced you were a bloody idiot and I refused to see you as anything other than a god like body and a potential for high grade badassery."

"Badassery? Is that even a word?"

"Shut up and let me finish, it's difficult enough without you making me feel stupid… And I KNOW you're smart enough to understand the concept of silence. You've mastered physics and engineering because you were BORED so I'm extremely confident you can close your mouth for fifteen seconds and listen."

Desmond's teeth clacked as his mouth snapped shut.

Shaun took a deep breath and continued. "I'm not stupid, alright? I'm not insignificant, I deserve good things, and I'll damned well fight dirty for them if I must… I've got standards, you see. STRICT standards. If I ever get married it'll be to a woman with red hair the color of a ripe strawberry, brown eyes, pale Irish skin with tiny little freckles, big tits, and wide hips I can really grab on to-" His fingers curled as if he was doing just that, eyes alight. "A woman who can really bruise your pelvis!"

Desmond felt his eyebrows drawing upward warily where he sat practically pinned against his headboard and he wondered again if Shaun hadn't lost his mind.

Shaun continued, a dark ferocity in his eyes, lips swollen from scraping between his teeth, breath ragged; "She'll have a whole fucking houseful of books! Shelves upon shelves of them! She'll have a degree in Literature and write non-fiction for a living. She'll have a little cottage in the country with a thatch roof and wood floors. And a cat, a big furry FAT cat that'll eat rats and chase the goddamned rabbits out of my garden. And she'll make good Minced Meat Pies. REALLY, mouthwateringly GOOD pies! The kind you'd get down on your hands and knees and lick her feet for—"

"Shaun?"

"Can't you be quiet for five se—"

"You're scaring me, man… W-what's wrong… Y-you didn't like, take one of Becca's blue pills did you?"

Shaun blinked rapidly, noticing the confused, unsettled expression on Desmond's face. "No…"

"Is this because I've been spending so much time with Becca?" His eyes became very large; "Oh shit, you two are like-like together aren't you!"

"NO!" Shaun hissed, face scrunched up as if it were the most preposterous thing he'd ever heard. Which in all actuality it was. He barely considered Rebecca Crane human half the time. "I don't care how bloody brilliant you are, you'd have to be pretty damned stupid to think that!"

Desmond shrank back again. "Sorry."

Shaun sighed weightily, irritation dampening the fire he'd been feeding by telling Desmond exactly what he wanted in a woman, and in a round about way why he'd been wrong about Desmond and what he really thought about him.

But, Shaun was never good at being wrong.

It was quiet for a few more seconds, and Desmond shifted uncomfortably; "Is that all?"

Shaun snorted; "No."

"Then what do you want… I was kind of in the middle of something."

"I noticed." He inhaled deeply and let it out in a hiss, bending over his knees again before with another deep breath for courage, he decided the best thing to do would be to just say it.

"I know it's going to sound preposterous, and I can't believe I'm actually going to say it aloud. But you've— You're… I thought you were stupid! If I'd known you weren't I would have—" His hands curled and his eyes slid to the bump in the blankets where Desmond's crotch was. His voice rumbled in his throat and his fingers flexed, words building up in the back of his throat like vomit, and he knew when they came out it wasn't going to be pretty because there was no controlling them. They'd come up and up and up in a never ending cascade, even if they left a bad taste in his mouth.

"Shaun, are you hitting on me?"

He choked.

"Its OK if you're not, but… You're like, pitching a serious tent there and I can only think of two reasons why you'd be this close to me with a pole in your pants, and one of them includes Becca's blue pills."

"Your sense of perception is astounding…" He was less that impressed, but it had gotten the awkward part over with… Thank God.

He swallowed thickly. "I've been pretty much isolated since I was eighteen… I apologize if my social etiquette is lacking. I've not really had much experience."

Desmond seemed to relax a little, though he still looked confused. "Yeah… I guessed as much." He wetted his lips, took a deep breath and let it out. "So –uh—What did you have in mind w-when you came over here… Cause I'm—"

"You're smart, you figure it out."

Desmond made a face as if he were trying to drink cookie dough through a straw and his eyebrows shot to his hairline. Mentally he replayed key points in their conversation. Trying not to remember Shaun's 'Perfect Wife' rant, and focus more on the fact he distinctly remembered the Brit saying he possessed 'a god like body and a potential for high grade badassery.'

"I desire very few things when it comes to men, 'tall, dark and handsome' are a given. But I also want someone who is intellectually stimulating…" He paused, swallowed thickly, and continued; "I've had two lovers… Both of them were gorgeous, but had more teeth than sense, and I swore I'd never subject myself to caring for someone who cares more for themselves and instant gratification than for anybody else or building a lasting relationship ever again." There was a stark bitterness in his voice that told Desmond two things.

One; These past lovers of Shaun's had hurt him more than just physically.

And Two; When they'd met, Shaun HAD been attracted to him, but wouldn't let himself admit or act on it because he feared being hurt again.

"You've got brains and—"

"Badassery?"

"Five seconds… That's all I want."

"Sorry."

Shaun rubbed his forehead; "This is a waste of time…" And he stood to leave.

Desmond just barely caught his sleeve with his left hand and stopped him in his tracks. "Usually when you hit on someone, you ask them out on a date… Then if the date goes well and you still like them, you go out again… After that—"

"Desmond, I've walked in on you in the bathroom after you ate Rebecca's sorry excuse for Mexican Cuisine. I've sat there at that desk night after night listening to you make love to your hand… You've used the toilet while I was in the bloody shower! I think we're past dates."

Desmond swallowed thickly and it was quiet for a long agonizing few minutes;

"So what now?"

Shaun looked down at him with an expression on his face that said it was obvious. "Now?" He paused, tongue feeling thick, embarrassment burning in his veins. "Now I go to my room and see if you follow me… And if you do I introduce you to the contents of my bedside drawer and we go from there." He pulled his wrist free of Desmond's hand and padded past his computer, pausing long enough to turn the monitors off before he strode purposefully, with more confidence than he should have, down the hall to his room.

Desmond counted to five before he followed him.

"There I gave you you're fucking five seconds."

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	5. Chapter 5

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**Chapter 5; The Contents of the Drawer**

At first Shaun looked disappointed, sitting there on the edge of his bed staring at his hands, but then his door had made that lovely creaking sound it often made when pushed open, and his head snapped around to stare.

In half a second six different emotions flashed across Shaun's face. Fear, surprise, trepidation, excitement, longing and then, brightly, utter and complete superiority. He squared his shoulders; "Lock the door would you? Wouldn't want any unwelcome visitors."

"You mean Becca?" Desmond smirked when Shaun's face turned slightly green. He slid the lock and crossed his arms over his chest, taking one step at a time toward the bed, and Shaun.

The Brit stood and positioned himself between his bed and the far wall. Standing there like he was behind a desk preparing for a rather tedious job interview. As Desmond approached Shaun's hands lifted, fingers lacing, and he shifted backward slightly, the only indication of his nervousness that he would ever exhibit.

"Usually there's more nakedness and less twiddling of thumbs at this point." Desmond lifted a hand and fiddled with the V collar of his t-shirt

"I know that… But, like I said before, I've got standards, you see."

"Yeah, I remember…" He took a deep breath and let his hands fall to his sides. "So, what do you want me to do?"

Shaun swallowed, adam's apple bobbing, and Desmond could practically feel the other man's eyes roving over him like two heated points, lingering on the front of his pants. "How—"

"Why don't you come over here and find out?"

Shaun gave a visible shudder and after a second's hesitation he shifted forward and hooked a finger in the top of Desmond's sweats, eyes locked on the prominent bulge just a few inches below his hand. "Take these off… They're hideous." He gave the stretchy fabric a pull and let the waistband snap back against the younger man's stomach, satisfied when the muscles jumped and bunched erotically beneath his skin.

In his head Desmond shouted; 'THANK GOD!' so loud it echoed, but outwardly he just leaned closer to Shaun and pulled his pants down slowly, past his hips and let them fall to the floor.

There was a hesitation then, Shaun stiffened, and his eyes flicked downward, then quickly up again, having to lean backward slightly to focus on Desmond's face. His chin gained a coaxing tilt and the distance between them became less and less with each breath.

Shaun's heart was pounding loudly, each beat felt in his head and crotch.

He hadn't had a first kiss in years… And as strangely romantic and sappy as it may sound, he wondered briefly if this may be his last.

Rationality told him he was being stupid, that something would happen and he'd find out Desmond wasn't what he'd thought him to be, he would be disappointed… He'd be hurt. Again.

Somehow, he couldn't bear that thought. He could handle sex. Mindless, fantastical sex… Intimacy was a different matter. And if the way Desmond was leaning closer, his eyes watching intently, the younger man may want just what Shaun was not willing to give him.

Just before their lips could touch Desmond's smirk grew into a grin and all movement stopped.

"Whatcha got in the drawer, Shaun?"

Shaun blinked rapidly. "Excuse me?"

"You said you'd show me what you got in your drawer… So let's see it, I'm curious."

Quite suddenly his face became very red. "Oh."

Desmond leaned away from him and plopped back on his bed, propped up on his elbows, sweats pooled around his ankles, boxer briefs tented obscenely, that petulant, ornery grin on his face.

Shaun sighed, a little irritated and turned to his bedside table, pulled open the drawer, and lifted out a small, black locking box that looked oddly like a miniature toolbox.

Desmond's grin widened, then he laughed under his breath; "You look like a repairman…" He sat up and started methodically pulling at Shaun's clothes. Pushing up his sweater and dragging his shirt from his slacks. "Come on, if we're gonna do this, we've gotta hurry. I haven't really gotten laid in two years, and Ezio's 'habits' are enough to make me swear off sex for twice that long if I don't get something that hasn't been dead for seven centuries."

Shaun snorted; "Necrophilia isn't too becoming, Desmond. Perhaps you should see someone about that."

"Fuck you."

"Not if you don't hurry yourself. It'll be morning soon then neither of us will be getting laid."

Desmond stopped pulling and stared up at him through his lashes; "If we're gonna do this, we're gonna do it right. None of that half clothed bullshit… Not tonight. If we're gonna have sex I want skin… Real skin and not that computer generated shit."

Shaun's heart skipped a beat and he dragged his sweater and shirt over his head, then pulled his belt free of his slacks. He was just rolling it when he felt Desmond's fingers working his zipper open. His breath hitched and he looked downward with his teeth grit.

There was something truly sexy about seeing Desmond pulling open his pants like that, pushing them down so they bunched at the tops of his thighs and smiling, eyes locked on his underwear like he'd just unwrapped a sensible but beautiful gift.

"Why does it surprise me."

"What."

"I always figured you for a boxer man, but still I was half expecting something lacy and kinky." He glanced up from under his lashes and hooked his thumbs under the Brit's waistband, tugging gently inch by inch so slowly it felt like torture.

"What are you doing?"

"Karaoke… Where's my microphone."

"Oh."

And Desmond froze, fingers impossibly close to Shaun's prick, and his eyes lifted, brows scrunched in confusion. "What?"

Shaun shifted uncomfortably; "I was…"

"You were what?"

"I thought I was… Well—What I mean is, I thought _you_ were…"

Desmond tilted his head; "I may be smart, but that doesn't mean I can read your mind."

"I-I thought you wanted me to… You."

Desmond grinned again, and Shaun had to bite his tongue to keep from whining as his boxers were drawn down low enough that the elastic caught on his dick, adding such pressure he wanted to scream.

"Fine by me… Just keep in mind I've got to sit on my ass all day tomorrow in the Animus, so take it easy, OK?"

"That's not what I meant…"

"Well what did you mean then?" He caught Shaun's cock as it popped free of his underwear, grinning when the older man twitched and released a strangled sound. "I'm open to quite a lot, but I'm kind of running on instinct and things I remember from porn at this point, so the sooner you decide what's happening the better…" His grip was a little too tight, and his lips, where they pressed into the hollow of Shaun's hip, felt cooler than they should have, but it wasn't an unpleasant experience.

Shaun wanted to think about this, but what Desmond was doing felt too good, so he just stood there staring down at him, holding his lock box in one hand, the other tightened into a fist around the key. "W-well I'd initially… I considered… At first I—" He swallowed thickly, all sense and reason leaving him. "I-I'm… just very, very horny, Desmond."

"Me too."

"And we've both got to sit on our asses tomorrow…"

"Mmmm." His other hand came up, scratching lightly through Shaun's pubic hair, lips teeth and tongue working at the jut of his hip, inching so terribly slowly toward his sex.

Shaun's reply came out in an incoherent whine and his left hand came up, tangling in Desmond's hair, glasses sliding down his nose. If Desmond was just going by instinct, what would it feel like when he actually knew what he was doing?

"You gonna show me what's in that box or are we just gonna fuck and forget about it?" His hand sped up fractionally, mouth moving closer and closer, so close he could smell the other man's arousal, and it did frightening things to his own.

Shaun seemed to fold over him, and they eased back onto the bed, Shaun straddling his waist, box on the bed above Desmond's head rattling as the Brit tried to open it.

There was a distinctly citrus scent wafting from the box when Shaun got it open, and the next second something large and violently orange was in Desmond's face, and it felt like his balls had shrunk up behind his liver.

"What the _fuck _is that!" His hand stilled on Shaun's prick and it felt like his eyes were burning, just staring at the thing in the Historian's hand.

Shaun blinked in surprise, one hand still digging in the box. "What? Oh…" He rocked backward, sitting on Desmond's stomach, and thwacked the thing against his palm three times like a club, grinning. "This, Dear Desmond… Is Satan's War Hammer."

"You _named_ it?"

"Yes. It was a gift."

"Jesus _Christ_, Shaun, that thing's the size of my _arm!"_

"That's the idea…"

Desmond looked decidedly frightened, fingers tightened into claws on Shaun's thighs. "Y-you can't be serious."

"I wasn't at first… but now I am." Shaun crawled off of him and shoved his boxers and slacks off, kicking them toward the corner, then crawling back onto the bed wearing only his socks, and positioned himself by the other man's hip.

Desmond's mouth opened and closed rapidly. "Y-you can't put that in me, man, I'll split open like that guy from Alien!"

"Yes, that's something we can agree with." He thwacked it against his palm again, weighing it, trying to wrap his fingers around it, but sighing when they wouldn't reach. "This isn't meant for insertion without serious preparation time and practice, thank god… Or else I would have ended up injuring myself this past week trying to wank you out of my mind. It's a gag gift from my elder sister I've gotten a new version of every year since my eighteenth birthday. But, other than feeling fantastic on my back when my shoulders ache, it does this…" Shaun gave a black cap on the end of it a twist and a dull humming noise filled the room.

Desmond looked at it puzzled, until Shaun grinned at him and lowered the thing to rest against his crotch.

For the five seconds Shaun held it there, Desmond was utterly motionless, head tilted back against the pillows, lips parted, fingers fisted in the sheets. For thirty seconds after Shaun lifted it away, he lay there limp and panting.

"Fabulous thing, this. Just rubbing against it is enough… High speed vibrations do wonders to the nervous system, you see."

He twisted the black cap again, turning it off, "Sadly, it's not what I had in mind for this situation… Maybe next time."

Desmond released a sigh of relief and tilted his head to watch Shaun pull something else from the box. "What all you got in there?"

"Patience…"

What he displayed next was something that looked oddly like a thumb sized metal pill attached to a small black remote by a length of white wire.

"Tonight, _this_, is for you… It's the least intrusive of my collection." And in his other hand there was what looked like a red and white shroom, complete with spots and a little green nubby looking base that resembled grass. "And if you're a good boy, I'll get one of _these_ for you to keep."

"What is that thing?"

Shaun smiled, and it was a decidedly disturbing expression. "I call it a Tumbler, hand made in Lancaster by a man named Bill Kensington. They're rather expensive and range in size from Morel to Smurf House… This one is a Medium long-stem… Put some lube on it, feels like someone's playing your back door like an oboe."

"Jesus, you are a kinky bastard."

"Oh, I haven't even got going yet… You'll never be able to look at a woman again when I'm through with you. And that's a promise."

Shaun produced a clear plastic tube filled with a slightly pink jell and a small box of foil wrapped condoms.

Desmond watched as he worked, fascinated with he older man's fingers as he unrolled one and dropped in the pill like end of the contraption dubbed for his use, then fitted another over the protruding mushroom head of the Tumbler.

"Now, before we get started… Have you ever done this before?" The Brit looked at him earnestly, brows lowered.

"S-sex in general… Or sex with an-another guy?" He could still feel his crotch vibrating. It had been so intense it almost hurt.

"Both."

"I've had sex before, but not with another guy." He forced himself to stand, his arms to move, pushing his underwear down and kicking them off, sitting back on the edge of the bed for a moment just relishing in the sensation of air on his dick. Being naked was a luxury he hadn't had time to fully appreciate in a long while. And now not only was he gloriously naked, he was going to have sex as well. Sex that didn't involve his promiscuous ancestor and a fifteenth century prostitute.

"Ah… Well, should I go first then? To show you how it's done?"

Desmond turned and his eyes dropped immediately to Shaun's crotch, mesmerized. Dick had always been a tentative subject for him, ever since he'd gotten beaten up for 'peeking' in the boy's bathroom as a child. It had only gotten worse as he'd grown older, more specifically in dreams, or the night he'd been hiding in a tree to escape his parents and punishment for skipping physical training and witnessed one of the other boys his age masturbating through a bathroom window.

There had always been a strangely taboo attraction, a curiosity that just felt natural, but had to be kept hidden at all costs because everybody said it was wrong, evil.

Now though, he found himself in Shaun's bed, staring at Shaun's hard dick, the way it curved slightly to the right, and how the ridge of his head was prominent, pink and flared. All ready and hot just for him. And the way his balls sat heavily between his thighs, the hair there just slightly darker and redder than the hair on his head.

Desmond suddenly wanted to turn the light off and cover himself. What would Shaun think of him? Would he be pleased? Would he laugh? Or just cringe away in disgust?

His hands moved to cover himself but Shaun's fingers ghosted up his arm, lightly, barely there, and the Brit leaned forward, smiling, lids lowered, and bumped his nose gently against Desmond's ear. "All shapes and sizes, eh?"

"Knock it off." He lifted his shoulder and rubbed his ear against it, irritated and ticklish. "If you're gonna laugh, laugh and get it over with."

"Why would I laugh?"

"Because you're a prick."

"Harsh words… I'm not laughing, Des. We're about evenly matched here." The hand on his elbow slid down and went right to the younger man's crotch.

"Shaun." He pushed against the Brit's arm in protest.

"What?" He raised his head, peering down perplexed and frustrated. "You've gone all red." He grinned and pulled Desmond back, pressing his head to the pillows, then straddling the younger man's thighs, hand moving slowly, deeply, balanced on his elbow by his shoulder, faces inches apart. "Blushing like a virgin."

Desmond turned his head away angrily, heart in his throat.

"Fine," He sighed and stopped all motion, his hand still cupping the other man's dick, "What's the matter?"

Desmond let out a low breath and glanced down at himself mere centimeters from Shaun's arousal, similar in size, only slightly different in tone and girth, but with one very plain difference. "I'm assuming since you're still touching me that you're not disgusted or anything."

"Disgusted? Why would I be dis…" He paused and his grip shifted, thumb lifting to rub against Desmond's foreskin. "This?"

His breath hitched and his brows knitted, but he was able to answer with only a small tremor in his voice; "I had a girl break up with me over it."

"Why?"

"She said it was dirty."

"Well that's stupid." He nuzzled his nose back into the hollow of Desmond's throat and resumed his stroking, "I don't mind at all… One day when we've got more recovery time I'll even show you something… _Interesting_ you can do with it." He punctuated it with a sharp nip to the side of the younger man's throat, then rocked back onto his knees and popped open the lid of what Desmond assumed was flavored lube.

"You know, I ate a whole tube of that stuff once, on a dare." Desmond said lamely, and pointed to the tube while Shaun began smearing the gel over the condoms covering his toys.

"I hope you got something good out of it." He chuckled.

"Twenty bucks and the worst case of the shits you could ever imagine."

Shaun had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing out loud. "Idiot… And you didn't answer my question earlier… Do you want me to go first, to show you what to do?"

Desmond's brow wrinkled. "Didn't you say not but a minute ago that we've both got to sit on our asses all day tomorrow? I don't know about you, but from what I know of how this works, whoever gets it is gonna be sore for a while."

Shaun rolled his eyes; "Just trust me."

"Last person who said that to me stuffed me in their trunk."

Shaun held up his lube, "Watch."

With a sigh Desmond levered himself up onto his elbows, watching what the Brit was doing as he moved off to sit beside him again.

"Spread your legs a bit more." Shaun pressed on his knee.

"Shaun."

"I'm not going to put my dick in you… Not tonight at least." He popped open the tube and squirted a healthy amount in his fingers, then slowly, eyes locked with Desmond's, he pressed a slicked finger against his opening. "Relax."

"What're you doing?"

"Two fingers, that'll be enough for this," He glanced at the remote controlled toy.

"That's going in?"

"Yeah, and it'll feel amazing."

"Prostate stuff?" He eased back on the bed.

"Very good, now just relax."

Shaun kept glancing between his face and where his finger was gently teasing Desmond open.

One finger didn't really feel like much of anything, a push, and the sensation of something being in there, but the only discomfort was that, well… There was something IN there, something that moved every so often against very sensitive places, pushing in and out, pressing at his inner walls. It wasn't that bad actually, he briefly wondered why he'd always before been so anxious about the prospect of penetration… But the second finger. That stung a little, and the sting just seemed to intensify as Shaun kept pushing.

"Ow."

"It's alright—"

"Yeah, Shaun that's kinda startin' to maybe hurt a little."

He nodded and ceased pushing in, instead he pressed upward with the pads of his fingers.

It still burned, but Desmond kind of liked this whole prostate thing. It wasn't lightning bolts or super-fuckin-amazing like porn made it out to be, but it did feel good.

Shaun eased his fingers in a little more, but didn't stop rubbing. "I think you like this."

He nodded and reached between their bodies, curling his fingers around Shaun's shaft, humming in his throat when the Brit ground his teeth and rocked into his hand.

"You're a little too good at that for me to believe you've never done this before."

Desmond's face blanched and he tried to scowl; "I've watched a lot of porn."

"You're pretty familiar with your hands… aren't you." Shaun chuckled; "You'll have to show me some time."

"If you tell me w-what it feels like."

"Hmm? What? Having my fingers in you? Or being fucked?"

"Both."

Shaun felt his resistance wearing very thin. Part of him wanted to just keep working his fingers deeper into Desmond's body, ease in another and fuck the man into the mattress. SHOW him what it felt like. Completely and totally overwhelm him with sensation until he was begging for it… And after he'd shown Desmond how to take it… He'd teach him how to give it.

"You feel tight… I bet you'd squeeze the life out of me if I put my prick in you—" He growled in his chest; "I want in here… Then I want this in me…" He gave the other's shaft a squeeze; "I think you'll make me scream with this… _Mmmm."_

_"I think_ that's the first complement you've given me."

"Don't push your luck."

Shaun wouldn't admit it, but when he'd said he liked tall, dark and handsome men with brains and nice packages, he'd twisted the truth just a little. Shaun liked all those things in a man, but had always wanted one who would bend him over something, anything, and pound into him… And then let him do the same to them when he wanted to. He wanted someone who would treat him like an equal, not a like a possession.

So far, none had.

"Shaun, I-I really need to come, please man." His lip went between his teeth and his other hand itched to touch his dick.

The rubbing slowed to a stop, leaving him sweaty, feeling a little loose and hot down there, and tiny shocks were running from his anus to his prick.

Shaun smiled, eyes flicking back and forth as he picked up the bullet and worked it into the very tip of the condom, rubbing lube over Desmond's reddened opening before slowly pressing inward. "Breathe…"

The discomfort came almost immediately from the blunt end pushing against him, but it passed quickly and he felt its weight, as well as the empty end of the condom still poking out of him. Shaun pressed it just a little deeper until its girth fit against his prostate, and the remote was placed by his hand.

Shaun moved quickly, rubbing lube over the Tumbler and he turned his back to Desmond, watching over his shoulder when the younger man's eyes honed in on his fingers as he pressed it into himself, breathing out on a sigh at the stretch.

"Doesn't that hurt?"

Shaun chuckled at the naiveté and shifted back facing him, leaning forward and scraping his teeth down Desmond's chest. "Shower or quick cleanup?"

Desmond grunted questioningly eyes glazed in anticipation.

"Forget it…" He tossed the remaining condoms into his box and coated his fingers in lube again, crawling back over Desmond and catching his eyes as he pressed his slick palm against the younger man's erection. Mapping and memorizing each vein, ridge and curve. His lips curled upward in a smirk, mouth watering hungrily, he wondered what Desmond would taste like, wondered what the younger man would sound like while he was sucked. Shaun had so many ideas, so many things he wanted to do to him, had wanted to do for a long time now… And from how he was acting, Desmond may actually let him.

Shaun made a soft noise in his throat and reached behind himself, whining quietly when he managed to twist the on-off knob without assistance. Instantly his breath couldn't seem to come quick enough and he pressed the little black remote connected to the bullet into Desmond's hand.

"Start at one… Right b-before you come, turn it all the way to five. You'll thank me later."

Shaun pressed downward with his hips, grinding against Desmond's lap, loving the feel of cock alongside his own, like some long denied itch finally being scratched.

Desmond craned his neck to see the dial on the remote, and with a press of his thumb it felt almost like he'd been kicked right behind his balls, a sharp hard drill of pleasure shooting right through him.

"God, you make delicious noises."

He didn't even realize he was chanting quietly in the back of his throat, a drawn out, high _'Oh…'_ with each breath. The vibrations were lower than when Shaun had touched his prick with that orange beast of a thing, otherwise Desmond was sure he would have burst then and there. But the slow throb against his prostate sent spikes of pleasure racing up his spine rebuilding the pressure that had been lost when he'd been interrupted before.

Shaun made a soft noise, and reached between their bodies, fingers wrapping around their cocks and stroking steadily while their hips rolled together.

It had been a long while since Desmond had actually enjoyed sex. Even back when he'd had a steady girlfriend it had felt good, but that was about it. His girlfriend had been satisfied… when she'd been able to talk him into it… but he hadn't been.

It had gotten to the point that sex just wasn't exciting and he'd desired it less and less until sex and masturbation just became a way to relieve stress, or exhaust himself enough that he could sleep through the terrible alertness he was cursed with… THIS though, it was like something deep in his abdomen was tightening with each thrust, with each pulse, with each stroke of Shaun's hand. His heart was racing, his mind was whirring, drowned in sensation and thought that God, oh _God_ this felt so good! He didn't know it could feel this good, he never wanted it to end.

And then Shaun lowered his head, breath warm and smelling herbal like tea and sugar and honey.

A jolt went through him— _electric-sweet-hot-YES_— the instant his mouth connected with Desmond's. Warmth and an exotic spice like licorice. It wasn't a kiss, it was a feral mating of lips and teeth and tongues, and Shaun put his all into it. Working his way to Desmond's collar bone where he latched on, scraping his teeth against the flesh, biting until it left a mark and the younger man was writhing, clutching at the Brit's hair. Harsh desperate noises coming out with each breath, hips rolling up into each thrust.

"Y-you alright, Des?" Shaun's voice was a quiet hiss, eyes heavily lidded, brows crooked in concentration.

"F-feels fantastic—Fuck, why didn't we do this sooner?" He shifted his legs, hooking his knees against Shaun's hips, pressing with his feet on the bed for leverage.

Shaun hummed in agreement and sped up his thrusts. His body was singing, a choir, a whole fucking opera!

Desmond's face had become pinched, eyes heavily lidded, nose wrinkled, lips parted, and he was fumbling on the mattress, fingers seeking; "God… Sh-Shaun, I…" And suddenly Shaun had the remote in his hand, and his thumb twisted that textured little wheel all the way up, and Desmond was seeing stars. Colorful glittery flashes behind his eyes and blue lightning bolts like veins. His jaws popped as he inhaled sharply and he was coming.

Orgasm, over the past six years of his life, had become something that was barely worth the effort, he'd even hazard to say it was boring… Yes, it felt nice, but when it happened he was usually just glad that it was over and he'd be able to sleep.

This though, was something completely different. The vibrations were so fast, so deep his whole body went numb, just a lump of heat and tightness and an almost frightening sensation of drawing inward and pushing outward at the same time. He felt his asshole fluttering open and closed and something deep in him was in the midst of a spasm. His voice called out in a near soundless plea to the ceiling, not sure what was happening to him, if he was dieing or coming apart from the inside out. He was only half aware of Shaun moving, pushing two fingers back into him so he could feel it, and the ache of being breached only made it feel better, more visceral.

He thought it would be over quickly, like every other orgasm he'd ever experienced, but it just seemed to keep going and Shaun's hips jerked against his a few times, adding an almost massaging pressure to his balls, and his nails bit into the older man's shoulders, breath still caught in his throat. His body just kept tightening, rippling, flowing liquid like over his nerves, and everywhere he and Shaun touched burned like cold fire. He couldn't breathe, he needed air. He was desperate—NEED—

And then, blessedly, the vibrations stopped and he could feel his body twitching, aftershocks slowly tapering off even while he lay there utterly limp, fingers seized into rigidity against Shaun's back, nails sticky from scratching him.

When finally he was able to breathe again, his mouth and throat felt dry and he wanted a drink.

A stiff drink….

And maybe a cigarette.

Hot damn…

Shaun was lying heavily against him, fingers still deeply embedded alongside the vibrator, and the older man was panting heavily into his chest. He nuzzled into his throat again, pressing small dry kisses to his sweat damp skin, and his fingers pumped in and out lazily a few times in a way that was distinctly pleasant, but at the same time, made Desmond worry distantly that he might be a little sore tomorrow.

"I want to make you come like that every night… You looked gorgeous." Shaun latched onto his carotid artery and sucked like a vampire.

Desmond would have been content to fall asleep there amid the mess and rumpled sheets, completely and utterly wrecked, but Shaun shifted, gently pulling his fingers free and he felt sticky and damp like someone had spilled melted ice cream on his stomach and between his legs.

"Come on…" Shaun sat up and stretched, waddling slightly as he made his way to the adjoining bathroom. Something Desmond hadn't even noticed when he'd entered the room. "Shower first, then we can sleep."

Desmond nodded but his legs felt like rubber, his thighs burned and his hips felt unhinged from their joints. He also wondered if this wasn't what a chicken felt like with something oddly egg shaped in his bum. He was tempted to pull it out to alleviate the discomfort, but wasn't sure exactly how to go about doing that, a little worried that it may hurt or be messy. So, picking up the remote and feeling slightly absurd, he tiptoed into the bathroom, cum running down his stomach and abdomen eyes hyper sensitive, spectral auras clinging to everything he touched, and everywhere Shaun had touched.

Shaun, it seemed, had already removed his own and had tossed the condom. He dropped the toy into the sink, then grinned when Desmond stood there looking at him stupidly with dilated eyes.

A few awkward seconds later the business end of the bullet was in the sink as well and Desmond felt oddly like he had to use the bathroom, but decided it could wait until after the shower.

Showering with another person wasn't something new to Desmond. At the farm, it was part of the curriculum with physical training. Desmond hadn't particularly liked it, he was always afraid of… Interruptions.

But this time it didn't seem that what had always before been a problem, was even worth mentioning… Hell it may have even been congratulated.

Shaun turned on the water and Desmond leaned his back against the wall yawning, not knowing how much longer his legs would hold him up. He watched Shaun scrub himself and grinned when the older man drew him forward, chest to chest and ran the soap over his back.

"You're gonna wash me off?"

"My mother always told me to take care of my toys, so yes, I am."

He hummed into the crook of Shaun's neck and just let him do what he wished. He felt pleasantly exhausted and just wanted to go to sleep. Sleep and maybe actually dream for once instead of reliving things he'd never himself experienced.

"I think you're falling asleep on me." Shaun's smile tickled below his ear and he grunted noncommittally, too tired to do much of anything but stand there with his eyes closed and enjoy the tingling trails left by the Brit's fingers on his skin.

"Des?"

"Hmmm?"

"Can you make anything other than shrinking guns?"

He was quiet a minute, just breathing and feeling the water beat against his back, then he grunted softly in the affirmative. "Yeah, why?"

"I've got an idea, and I'd like to hear what you think of it."

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	6. Chapter 6

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_=3= Shaun and Des took over this chapter without my permission... Another is on its way soon!_

_Love,_

_OZ_

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**Chapter 6; Think on It**

To say Lucy was surprised the next morning when she walked into the workroom and found Desmond's bed rumpled and empty, would have been an understatement to end all understatements.

She was terrified.

So, when she tried to open Shaun's bedroom door to tell him and realized it was locked, she just politely kicked it in.

Shaun was sleeping on his stomach, and the second the door exploded inward, he had tumbled to the side and was on his knees in the floor on the far side of the bed, teeth bared, squinting down the barrel of a compact Smith and Wesson, aimed just to the left of the bridge of Lucy's nose.

"Desmond's not in his bed."

Shaun groaned and dropped his head onto the sheet, gun falling from his hand. "Look in that Bat Cave of his… He's probably weaseled his way in under the door."

Lucy's nose wrinkled; "What?"

"He did build a damned shrinking gun after all… And you think locking it under the sink is a wise place to hide it, hmmmm?"

She was walking quickly down the hall before he'd even finished speaking.

"You owe me a new door you hateful twat!" He said it mostly to his mattress, quiet enough that Lucy probably didn't hear it if she was focused on getting into Desmond's Bat Cave.

He crawled back into bed, wanting to relish in his dreams for a while longer. Burrow his face into the pillow Desmond had slept on and remember each and every little noise the younger man had made, and build a detailed plan in his head of exactly what he wanted to do and have done to him the moment they got time alone together.

Somewhere in the background Lucy let out an angry roar; "DESMOND!"

Shaun sighed irritably into the pillow and willed himself deeper into his head. He wanted to totally immerse himself in the sensation of it, visualize each second, imagine what kinds of noises he could get out of the younger man while he opened him up with his fingers, then slowly sank his dick into him.

Oh, God, he'd be tight. So unbelievably tight. Hot…

"Shaun, quit being a pervert and get up, we've got work to do." Rebecca leaned against the wall, grinning at the ruin that had been a door, and the huddled half asleep mass rutting gently into the mattress.

Shaun groaned and curled into a ball of pale skin, cotton boxers and ratty t-shit, hugging his knees and rocking back and forth trying futilely to recall the pure ecstasy of his imaginings; "I hate you."

"I'm making breakfast."

He groaned louder; "I love you… But I still hate you."

Rebecca making breakfast was a rare occurrence. She was damned good at making breakfast. Anything else she tried to put together sucked or gave you food poisoning. But for an alien she was a good breakfast cook, and when she was in the mood for it, could whip up the most ornate delicious dishes with just about anything.

Shaun remembered shortly after he'd been 'recruited', his nineteenth birthday to be exact. Bundled in quilts, still bruised and bloody in places, half frozen in a tiny cabin in Siberia with Rebecca. She'd looked exactly the same then as she did now… though her sense of fashion had thankfully evolved from Grunge to 'Eighties Sci-fi Chic'.

But, Shaun remembered limping out of the tiny bedroom, feeling exposed and perhaps like he was experiencing withdrawl symptoms because there was no computer here and he missed his laptop terribly. And there had been Becca, dressed in baggy jeans, a black tank top and a giant plaid shirt listening to some techno garbage on a CD player sticking out of her back pocket. She was standing over the little potbelly stove with a frying pan, and the most fantastic smell was wafting out of it. _'Hope you like French Toast.'_

_'French Toast? What's that?'_ He'd been certain there hadn't been anything in that cabin but canned things with labels he couldn't read and a grocer's stock of alcohol. But somehow, she'd managed to find bread and make proper food!

Since that day he'd become a junkie for her breakfasts.

That was the only reason he could think of to explain why he climbed out of bed and shrugged off the dream of Desmond riding him like a rodeo cowboy and making those noises with his m-mouth— Shaun wiped a bit of drool from the edge of his lips.

Speaking of Desmond, Shaun had to clamp down on his tongue to keep from screaming when Lucy came marching purposefully into the kitchen with something roughly the size of a small mouse hanging between pinched forefinger and thumb.

"Okay, he's grounded, nobody talk to him." She pulled a quart jar out of an overhead cabinet, deposited the little something into it and sat it on the table.

It was only then that Shaun realized exactly what the little something was… Or WHO.

"WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE!" He grabbed two handfuls of his hair and turned on Lucy with a horrified expression on his face.

"He did it to himself. You were right, he'd crawled under the door… I walked in and there he was! When he saw me he tried to hide in that mess of his like a rat."

Shaun dropped into a chair and leaned his elbows onto the table staring in horror at the two inch tall Desmond in the jar. "You have got to be kidding me! Lucy was a hell of a lot bigger than this when you shrank _her!"_

"And that's not the worst of it." Lucy was smiling. "He's got the shrinking gun with him and he's refusing to unshrink himself until I let him go to the store, because he's out of lithium batteries and 'Stuff'—" She made finger quotation marks "So, he's grounded."

The little Desmond's mouth moved and Shaun could hear a dull sound coming from the jar, but couldn't make out anything he was saying.

"What?" He pulled the jar toward himself, grimacing when Desmond stumbled and fell, scratching at the glass with miniscule fingers as he slid around. He held it close to his ear.

It was clear, but very quiet.

"STOP SHAKING ME! And stop TALKING SO LOUD! It's like a fucking bell in here! You're going to deafen me! And if you really want that THING built, I _have to_ go to the store!"

Shaun grunted and carefully sat the jar back down, "Is there anything else we can put him in? He says it's like a bell in there and he's going to go deaf soon. And his voice is annoying enough at a normal volume, I'd loathe to hear him shouting everything because of hearing damage." He yawned and glanced at the miniature in the jar, how Desmond had settled himself cross legged against the side with his hands over his ears.

"It's either a jar or a shoe box."

"I've got a bug box in my room!" Rebecca looked enthralled, and she darted out of the kitchen.

Shaun rubbed his forehead. And this had started out to be such a wonderful day…

Rebecca came back a few seconds later carrying a small round container made of sturdy screen with a screw on lid and a black plastic bottom. "I used it a while back to study the spiders in the warehouse."

And to Desmond, her hand appeared four stories tall, fingers curled and fat like a child's hand, grabby and brutal as she reached for the jar. He covered his head and curled into a ball, hoping to minimize injury, and wondered if this is what a hamster felt like in a pet store whenever someone came over to inspect them.

He became terribly seasick quite suddenly as Rebecca jostled him around, and rather rudely spilled him into her palm, all the while Lucy and Shaun were protesting loudly, and Lucy was practically in a panic.

"OH MY GOD! DON'T DROP HIM! FOR FUCK SAKE YOU'LL KILL HIM!"

He peeked out under his arm, and noted the almost identical expression on Shaun's face as he was tumbled into the bug box and the lid secured over his head.

By the time he was sat 'safely' back onto the table, he felt like he was going to throw up and that maybe, he'd just fallen off a mountain. He was almost positive he had a concussion and that his back, arms and legs would be covered in bruises.

"I will never play with hamsters again…"

"Wow, he's like a Liliputian!" Rebecca was leering at him. "How'd you get yourself so small!" Then her eyes lit up almost insanely; "Someone go get a magnifying glass!"

Shaun squinted at her distrustfully, "Why?"

"Cause his dick is about a millimeter long right now!"

He didn't hear it, but Shaun knew Desmond was groaning in humiliation. He could practically feel it.

"Come on, Des! Whip it out! Whip it out!"

He shifted about in his little prison and lifted an arm toward her.

Lucy smiled in an amused fashion; "I think he just showed you the world's smallest middle finger."

"This can't be safe!" Shaun glared at the blonde over his shoulder then turned back to Desmond. "Unshrink yourself, right now!"

Desmond shrugged. "Can't!"

Lucy's ears perked up, straining to hear the quiet little voice shouting from the tabletop.

"Why not?"

"There isn't enough fluid in this thing go get me any more than fifteen inches tall. I didn't think about that when I did this."

Lucy had become very pale. "What?"

Desmond laced his fingers through the holes in the screen, smiling up at her. He cleared his throat and raised his voice as loud as he could; "I don't want to be stuck like this forever! So somebody NEEDS to go to the store and get enough supplies to make another one of these!" He pulled out the miniscule shrinking gun and waved it around. He coughed, frustrated. Shouting for long periods of time wasn't pleasant. Pretty soon his throat would start getting sore and then nobody would be able to hear him.

With a muttered curse he slapped a palm to his forehead and started rummaging in his pockets. Trying to ignore the fact Rebecca, Lucy and Shaun pressed closer to see what he was doing.

It wasn't until a quiet trilling noise wafted out of Lucy's bedroom that anybody moved.

She blinked, an expression of surprise and excitement washing over her, and darted from the room. She came back a few seconds later, waving a hand at Shaun when he gave her a confused look and pressed her cell phone to her ear. "Don't think you're not still in trouble." She pointed a threatening finger at Desmond where he'd sat himself in the middle of the container with his chin propped on his fist.

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There was a reason Lucy didn't want anyone leaving the safe house. It was dangerous, Templars were literally everywhere, and every single one of them was too important to risk.

But Desmond was completely useless in his current condition, so there was damned little that could be done. If they wanted to continue anything, somebody would have to go to the store and get whatever it was the tiny bastard said he needed to remedy the situation.

And since Rebecca had realized the door to Desmond's Bat Cave was open, she had locked herself inside, threatening to touch something every fifteen minutes until Desmond was normal sized again.

Shaun had been volunteered to go out.

He was less than enthusiastic.

Shaun's own ordeal escaping the Templars had left him paranoid of everybody and everything.

Before he'd left he'd dug up a pair of contact lenses so he could leave his glasses behind and look less conspicuous, washed all the styling product from his hair, and despite Desmond's protests, which had gone unheard because Shaun refused to get close enough to him that his little voice carried, he'd pulled on a pair of the younger man's jeans a black T-shirt, and an ugly, worn brown hoodie with a beer logo on the front.

He looked like a completely different person, which Desmond decided, was the whole point of it.

Since Rebecca was touching all his stuff and Lucy was refusing to talk to him Desmond paced around and around the perimeter of the bug box, climbed up the screen and tore apart a dried spider leg he'd found in there, sticking the hollow pointed prickly foot on his fingers like a claw for a while out of sheer boredom.

And then the phone he took from Shaun rang.

He would never admit aloud how happy he was to have some kind of interaction… Even if he did feel a little awkward remembering Shaun's voice in his ear, or the things the Brit had done to him the night before.

"We may be in trouble… Squirt guns are out of season."

"What?"

"They won't carry squirt guns here until later in the year. What else would work?"

"Fuck… Okay—uh- Something that has the same trigger action, a spray bottle maybe… No. FUCK!"

"Calm down, you panicking is the last thing we need."

Desmond raked his spider claw glove over his head then threw it away from him when the little prickles on it tried to stick in his hair. "Gardening supplies, a bug sprayer might work, the spray nozzle has to be parallel to the laser while there's a chamber in between to house the prisms, copper and fluids. If it's not perfectly parallel it won't work."

Shaun weaved through the store, head lowered, feeling hyper aware of his surroundings… Listening to Desmond breathe. "Why couldn't you have shrunk Becca and Lucy instead?"

"W-what?"

"If they were shrunk we could have some time to ourselves."

Desmond was quiet, breathing deliberately slow.

"Want anything special while I'm here?"

"Beer… I haven't had a good beer in a while—OH! I also need sixteen feet of multi strand copper wire, two five gallon buckets with lids, twelve feet of clear flexible hose, five or six sets of walkie-talkies, as many lithium batteries as you're allowed to buy, five or six remote control toys, like airplanes or cars, a digital camera and about fifty of those little LED button lights you can put in balloons."

"Anything else, sweetums? A pink flying elephant perhaps?"

His voice dropped to an embarrassed growl; "Not unless you wanna buy some Preparation H."

Shaun's stomach tightened. "What?"

"It didn't occur to me until this morning sitting on the toilet, but I'm kinda' allergic to latex."

"A-are you alright?"

"Yeah, just not very comfortable…"

"How… How bad is it?"

"The allergy? Not too bad, it could be worse. Just sore and kinda itchy."

Shaun lowered his voice; "Good thing we didn't go for the easy cleanup then."

Desmond made an amused noise in his throat; "Yeah, rash and blisters… That would have turned out BAD… Why do we have to use them anyway? It's not like you're gonna get me pregnant or anything."

"Because it's sanitary, and trust me… Not using them—Ever had an enema?"

"Aw, gross! I didn't need to know that!"

"Yeah, you do. Especially if you're thinking of going without."

"Gross… Did you find a bug sprayer or something?"

"No—Wait… Des, why can't you unshrink the gun, then refill it and unshrink yourself?"

There was silence on the other end of the phone, and Shaun could hear Lucy calling to Rebecca that she was making tacos for dinner.

"Shaun?"

"Yes?"

"I'm the dumbest smart person on the planet."

"You mean you honestly didn't think of that?" Shaun stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the contents of his shopping cart in shock.

"Well, I have to hold it to pull the trigger, I didn't think…" He sighed and tried not to listen to the Brit's cursing and name calling, "Getting the vapor on the gun only is going to be hard, but I think I can manage it. Don't tell the girls."

"You're lucky I'm in a good mood…"

"Yeah, sex will do that to ya'."

"You owe me… You owe me so much nothing is going to get in or out of your body without my permission for a long- LONG time."

"Well, that's kinda' out of the question, cause I've gotta go to the bathroom right now like you would not believe!"

"Well, just tell Lucy."

"Shaun, I'm barely two inches tall—God forbid if I fell in, I'd drown!"

"What?"

He mumbled it; "I can't swim."

Shaun laughed.

"Shut up."

"Y-you mean all the time we thought it was just a glitch, bit it was a-actually YOU?"

"You're a prick."

"Awww, poor tike."

"Besides, I can't pee like this, even if I tried."

"Why the hell not?"

"My bladder, right now, is about the size of a mustard seed, it's full but—"

"The surface tension? You mean to tell me you can't take a leak because you're too small to allow it to pass—"

"Jesus, you don't have to say it out loud! Fuck, what's the matter with you!" he growled loudly in frustration; "Just please, for the love of God, hurry back or there is gonna be permanent damage to my kidneys."

"Fine, I'll bring you a beer, just because you're too small and cute to say 'no' to."

"Remind me not to hit you when you come back."

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End file.
